Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1887-12-16


upon it, and swore by the Grea
Is Spirit 10 daughter of his should wed
~ the son of renegade chieftain ant
Is divider of his tribe.
u so the lovers were parted, and Will,
l, the beautiful Colochoe wept in he
" fathers wigwam on the Surrounded
E, Hill, her dusky lover mourned fol
D. her, while he chased the wild deer a
Z, the headwaters of the bay.
But no locks, or bars, or time OIL
0 distance did ever yet sever true and
: loving hearts One evening just be.
}, fore the setting sun was lost in the
: haze of Indian summer, Coomassie
4 in his swift canoe padded down the
y bay to its foot; tying up TO tree, be
I quickly traversed the intervening
! forest, and stood at the foot of the Hill
! on which was the wigwam of Wam-
sutta. The shades of night had de-
scended, and the darkness was only
relieved by the tender light of the
swinkling stars. Coomassie remem-
bered his old lovers practice and i'm.
itating the plaintive notes of the
whippoorwill, Colochoe heard, an
swered, and was soon in the arms of
her lover, and despite the fact that
her fathers injunction rested heavy
upon her.
The result of this lovers meeting
was that an early dawn, Colochoe
was to flee with Coomassie, in his
canoe from the foot of the bay where
he should await her. Wamsutta had
not been asleep, as the lovers suppos-
ed, but, willy Indian that he was, had
heard the whole plot, and determined
to circumvent it.
AT carly dawn, true to her promise,
and the promptiDgs Of her woman's
love, Colochoe threaded the path
across the dewy woods, and was soon
seated in the canoe with her hap
py lover. just as the sun rose
above the tall trees and dyed with
rosy hues the dancing waters, up the
bay, TO the home of Coomassie sped
the happy lovers. Coomassie used
the paddle, with swift and dextrous
stroke, while Colochoe, with firm and
unerring hand, held the tiler which
guided the slender canoe: As they
swiftly flew along the lake their
hearts beat high with hope and
swelled in loving rapture.
But see i far ahead from an inlet
came a swift canoe, and as they come
on, shoots athwart their course and
bars further passage, and in II rises
old Wamsutta, fierce with wrath.
Colochoe besought her lover to fly TO
tho forest and shun her fathers an
ger, but with all warriors pride lie
refused to turn back on mortal man.
Said Wamsutts, fierce with anger,
''Base renegade, how dare you steal
my daughter? Yield her to me or
by the Great Father of our people,
| will slay you where you stand,"
dnd the old man, as he spoke, grasped
with fiery energy his tomahawk.
"Wamsutta, you are great chief
of my people, and / revere you. You
are the father of Colochoe, and /
respect you, will not lift hand to
injure you, but L fear you not, and
this night, as his wife, Colochoe
shall sleep in the wigwam of Coo
massie." Thus spoke the bold son
of Osnaberg.
But the words had scarcely left his
mouth when tho tomahawk of the
old warrier flew from his grasp, and
its keen blade was buried deep in the
brain of Coomassie, and he sank |
dead in the bottom of his canoe at
the feet of Colochoe. For a while |
the poor girl was bewildered, and |
mil NaffNl hnn oh lra
paled and tears filled her eyes, and |
then, rage and revenge filled her
soul. Her eyes flashed with all the
fierce hate of her race, and snatch
ing the bow of her fallen lover, and |
fixing an arrow to the string, its |
shaft soon quivered in the heart of
her father. With one convulsive
leap Wsmsutta plunged headlong
into the bay and its waters closed
above him. Poor Colochoe, with the
determination of death on her face
hesitated not but taking her toma-
hawk from her belt, dug hole in
the bottom of the canoe, then clasp
ing her lovers cold body in her
arms, and chanting the death song
of the Chickassws as the water slow
ly filled the canoe, they went down
to death together.
For days the Hill Indians mourned
and sought for their chieftan and his
daughter and old Osnaberg wept for
his lost son. AT last they were
washed up from the bottom of the
bay, and when found Coomassie was
locked in the embrace of Colochoe,
death giving them the union which
life had refused.
Their tragic death was not entire
ly devoid of good, because the es-
trangement of the tribe was healed,
and Osnaberg now reigned over a
reunited people and Colochoe lives
forever in the beautiful name she
has given the bay.
If any one has the hardihood to
doubt the truth of this Indian legend,
then go with me, pay our mutual
expenses, and 1 will show him the
bay which bears her name, and If
need bo the exact spot on its bosom
where the death-freighted canoe
went down beneath the waters,
which forever ended the life of ILL
fated Colochoe, and saw the death
of her loved Coomassie.
Monday, Nov. 2l-Very cold this
morning, and a disagreeable east
wind blowing. Off early, crossing
the narrows of Colochoe and going
about three or four miles due east,
skirting the Cache river, a clear, beau
tful stream, we cross at a ford, place
tho ISLANDERS through the woods
with small lake and the river In
our rear. Turner, with Deacon
Parish and Emmett Caudle, drive the
thick woods in front. 1 had hardly
reached my stand when saw
large buck coming slowly directly to
me. He was more than hundred
yards away when first saw him.
lie came Slowly on, stopping now
and then, snufTing and throwing up
his head, listening to the drivers in
the rear, covered him with my
gun and waited. When within
fifty Yards of me he turned across
the path and seemed to be listen {
ing intently. A clump of saplings